Helen had but little time allowed her to perform this charitable office: yet that little she employed to the best advantage, and in return Bertha’s gratitude rewarded her more amply, than she had hoped. Bertha, who had fallen ill soon after Emmeline’s departure, had only had time to forward the letter for Amabel; another packet, intended for the Countess Urania Venosta, was still in her possession. She gave it to Helen, and implored her to take care, that it reached its destination. That was not in Helen’s power; she kept it for some time, in constant terror lest her tyrant husband should discover it, and lest it should be the means of drawing down on herself and Emmeline fresh anger and increased sufferings. At length, she resolved at least to put the contents out of Count Donat’s power to bury in oblivion: she broke the seal, and what she read exalted her impatience to rescue the unfortunate writer to a degree, that was almost too strong to admit of concealment. What Helen suffered at this period is not to be expressed; perhaps her own misfortunes had made her still more compassionate towards those of others, than it was her nature otherwise to be. Three objects were now never out of her thoughts for a moment. The first was, since the Count of Torrenburg was now lost to her for ever, to make known to him the present residence of Amalberga; but how to convey to him that intelligence, she in vain sought to discover. The second was, if possible, to rescue Emmeline from the detested Convent of St. Roswitha; but alas! she had but little hopes of delivering others, while she was herself a captive in the Castle of Sargans. The last was, to obtain possession of the key to that chamber, in which was the secret entrance to the subterraneous passages leading to the dwellings of the Anchorets. The last seemed to afford her the most probable means of gratifying her two former wishes; perhaps too, she was unconsciously desirous of securing a means of escaping from the Castle, should she ever find such a step necessary. It is at least certain, that in her eagerness to carry her point, she took many steps, which prudence would not justify. Frequently did she repair to that chamber; she found the door guarded by seven locks. Frequently in the dead of the night, when all slept, or seemed to sleep, did she try the house-keys, which were in her charge; and when at length two of the locks shot back from their fastenings, she sank on her knees, and thanked Heaven with a flood of tears. She doubted not, that the rest of the locks would yield to her perseverance; but a sudden noise at no great distance prevented her from pushing the attempt farther that night, and she hastened back to her chamber with a heart filled with delight and expectation. Joy, at being so near the accomplishment of her wishes, prevented her from sleeping during the remainder of the night, and she employed the vacant hours in revolving her future plans.